


Plans and Panic

by TeamGwenee



Series: Sharks and Sapphires [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, game of thrones
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humour, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: A sequel to 'Sharks and Sapphires'. Brienne and Jaime's wedding is round the corner, and it would be nice if either of them had a say in the proceedings. Just maybe.





	1. Step 1

_**Congratulations! You have been lucky enough to find the special someone with whom you shall spend the rest of your life. In order to plan your perfect day, simply follow these short steps.** _

 

_**Step 1-Make sure to involve parents in the planning. In these stressful times, they can be a great source of support.** _

“Brie-Brie!” the blonde, freckled giant cried, lifting his daughter off the ground and spinning her round in a hug.

“Dad,” Brienne laughed nervously, blushing as she tried to disentangle herself from her dad’s grasp. Selwyn tightened his grip round Brienne’s shoulders and she succumbed to his embrace, embarrassed but happy.

“Dad,” Brienne continued, “This is Jaime,”

Jaime gulped as he took in the muscles straining beneath Selwyn’s rugby shirt. He was as tall and broad as Gregor Clegane, his father’s favourite bodyguard and ‘man-of-all-talents’. He had blue eyes that sparkled with warm good humour, a genial grin stretched across his face, and tough, calloused fingers that could break Jaime’s neck with the squeezing of his fist.

Jaime wiped the beads of sweat rapidly forming on his forehead and stuck out his hand.

“Good afternoon sir,” he said.

“Sir!” Selwyn cried, “Don’t give me that ‘Sir’ crap,” he reached out and pulled Jaime into a bone-crushing hug, “It’s Dad to you!”

Brienne hit her father on the shoulder. “Dad, put Jaime down. You’re choking him,”

Selwyn returned a purple faced Jaime down on the floor and laughed. As Jaime choked and spluttered, Selwyn swung down a meaty fist and slapped him on the back, throwing him to his knees.

“Whoops,” Selwyn cried, helping Jaime to stand, “Sorry son,”

Jaime grinned and swung his arm around Selwyn’s shoulder. “That’s alright Dad,”

“Jaime, you don’t have to call him Dad,” Brienne said, only to be ignored.

“Miss Tarth,” Brienne turned around to see Tywin Lannister, stern and upright as usual in his designer three-piece suit, entering the restaurant. He approached the party and took Brienne’s hand in his own, cold grip and gave it a kiss. “A pleasure as always,”

He turned to face his son, raising an eyebrow as he caught sight of the embrace. “Jaime,” he nodded. “And this is your father, I suppose?” he added.

Selwyn stepped forward and took Tywin’s hand in his own, shaking it enthusiastically. “Mr Lannister,” he said. Jaime was gratified to see his father wince.

“This is quite the establishment you have chosen,” Tywin noted as they took their seats, eyeing the leather booths and plastic menus with a contemptuous glance.

“Pentoshi Express is dad’s favourite,” Brienne explained.

“Indeed?” Tywin raised his eyebrow.

Selwyn nodded and smiled. “That’s a right handsome lad you have here,” Selwyn announced, reaching out to give Jaime a hearty pat.

Tywin nodded. “And your daughter is a fine young lady. I shall be glad to welcome her to the family,” Brienne smiled uneasily.

“I suppose we should start planning the wedding?” Selwyn said, “You’ll want it soon, won’t you?”

“Well-” Brienne started, only to be cut off by Tywin.

“We will need time to plan. There will be an awful lot to arrange. Music, catering and so on,”

“Of course,” Selwyn nodded, “Brie, you can have whatever you want! Tell me what budget you need and I’ll fork it out,”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tywin said.

“Nonsense! This is my little girl’s big day and I’m going to pay for the whole lot,” he said, smiling indulgently at his daughter.

“Actually Dad-”

“If she wants to fill the entirety of Evenfall Hall with string quartets and ice sculptures, then so be it,”

“Excuse me? Jaime and Miss Tarth will be married from Casterly,”

Now, Selwyn Tarth frowned.

“It’s traditional for the bride to be married from her home,” he growled.

“I think we can put tradition aside for once, don’t you? I’m sure you understand that the Lannisters have a reputation to uphold,”

“Father,” Jaime began.

“Oh yes,” Selwyn snarled, getting to his feet “And what a reputation that is!”

Tywin joined him. “Your daughter will be proud to be a Lannister,”

“She’s proud to be a Tarth! And she will prove that when she marries from Evenfall Hall,”

“They will be married from Casterly Rock!”

Jaime leaned forward and whispered into Brienne's ear.

“Make a run for it?”

Brienne eyed the warring fathers. She nodded. “Please,”

They discretely rose from their seats and aimed to look casual as they strolled from the restaurant, only to break into a run the second they reached the doors.

It was only when they had returned to their flat and barred all the doors that they allowed themselves to relax, and collapse onto the couch with a groan.

Jaime ran a comforting hand up and down Brienne's bare freckled arm.

“You know,” he mused speculatively, “As harrowing as that was, I'm rather impressed. Your father is probably the only man I have ever met who is brave enough to stand up to my father. Well, brave or foolish,”

“Probably foolish,” Brienne sighed, “He should know better than to take on a Lannister,”

Jaime pressed against her and smirked into her hair. “Thankfully, foolishness seems to run in the family,”

 


	2. Step 2

_**Step 2** _

_**When choosing your bridal party, make sure to choose friends who are helpful and supportive. Siblings are ideal, as are old friends. Especially any who have been married before.** _

“Trust me Jaime,” Tyrion said seriously, “I've had seven Stag Dos, and you have to go to Chataya's for the strippers,”

Jaime took a swig of beer and thrust his finger into Tyrion's face.

“Alright,” he snarled, “Number one, I will never take relationship advice from you. Your surplus of weddings does not make you a reliable source on the topic. In fact, the complete opposite. And secondly, I do not want strippers at my stag do!”

“Don't want strippers! Why not?”

“Because why would I want to look at a naked woman that isn't Brienne?”

Bronn smirked. “There is certainly enough of her to make up for eight strippers. Those legs on their own, I could eat a feast off them,”

Tyrion quickly intercepted as Jaime lunged across the table. Jaime slunk back into his seat, glaring daggers at Bronn.

“Talk about her like that again,” he hissed, “And I will have you mauled to death by Direwolves. I'm sure Catelyn Stark will be all too happy to lend me some,”

Tyrion patted Jaime's shoulder. “He's just stressed,” he informed Bronn, “Worried about Cersei,”

Bronn grimaced in sympathy. “I don't blame you,”

Jaime sighed. “I just didn't expect her to react like that. I knew she would be unhappy but... that was extreme. Father is still paying damages to the man whose car Cersei destroyed,”

Tyrion shook his head. “I just wish I knew where she got that sledgehammer from,”

“It's the TNT I'm still trying to get my head around!”

#

“You're marrying who?” Catelyn near shrieked down the phone, causing all members of the Stark family gathered round the kitchen table to jump. Seven pairs of wide, confused eyes turned towards the fuming Stark matriarch as she stormed up and down the kitchen.

_'I know you're not too fond of Jaime, but-'_

“Not too fond of him! That man is the most arrogant, entitled being the Gods were ever mistaken to create,”

“Brienne is marrying Jaime?” Ned asked, only to be hushed by a glare from Cat.

“Brienne, I cannot understand what you are thinking in marrying this man. He can't be trusted,”

_'I trust him!'_

“He's a Lannister, of course he cannot be trusted,”

_'So you won't help me plan this wedding? I had hoped you would help me stand up to Jaime's father, he's been steam rolling me-'_

“Now I didn't say that,” Catelyn said quickly, “If you want help standing up against Tywin Lannister, then of course I will,”

#

Margaery Tyrell managed to keep up her perfectly trained smile all through her lunch with Brienne and right until she got into Loras's and Renly's home, only to break down into her brother's arms. Never seen before tears streaked down her cheeks as Loras stroked her hair, rolling his eyes.

“Honestly Margie, I don't know why you're making such a fuss,” Renly put in, “You knew Brienne wasn't a lesbian,”

“And it's only Brienne, it's not like you've really missed out,” Loras added, “I'm still wondering where she got the drugs that messed Lannister up enough to ask,”

“Be nice,” Renly snapped, reaching out for Margaery, “Come on Margaery, don't cry now,”  
“Don't cry! How can you tell me that? When the most wonderful woman who has ever lived is getting married, and she asks me to be her bridesmaid. Not her bride, but he bridesmaid!”

“I can tell you that because if you keep crying you will make your nose red,” Renly informed her, “And I know for a fact that Sansa is also going to be a bridesmaid,”

Margaery cried out and rushed to the mirror, frantically checking her appearance. She splashed cold water onto her face and brushed out her mussed chestnut hair. She had already lost out on a chance with with Brienne, she wasn't losing Sansa too!

 


	3. Step 3

_**Step 3** _

_**Keep the guest list intimate! Your wedding is meant to be shared with the people who love you best. Who wants to swear their undying love before a company of complete strangers?** _

In return for Tywin covering all of the costs for damages done to the Restaurant, as well as their bail and bribes to the press, Selwyn agreed to have the wedding held at Casterly Rock. Ever since then, Tywin had militantly set about wedding planning, enlisting the help of Jaime's Aunt Genna to have everything arranged in three months. Tywin (with little resistance from Jaime) had insisted upon a short engagement. He wanted grandchildren and soon, legitimate grandchildren. Nor did he want to give Brienne a chance to bolt and run. Unbeknown to her, he had been having Brienne tailed by two of his most highly trained bodyguards ever since the engagement was announced. This was done for two reasons. One, to prevent any attempts of escapes, and two, to intervene should Cersei try anything drastic.

Cersei had an entire security team following her, with orders to sedate her without hesitation if the situation called for it.

One month into planning, Brienne had given up trying to have her voice heard. She had hoped Catelyn would be her champion, but she conceded to Tywin's plans the minute he offered to arrange internships for both Sansa and Arya.

It seemed that even the honourable Catelyn Stark had her price.

And so, Brienne and Jaime found themselves being summoned to Casterly Rock in order to receive an update on the wedding that they had absolutely no say in.

Brienne sat in stunned horror as Tywin rattled off the guest list. She had only wanted a small wedding, with just friends and family. Jaime had agreed, but unless he happened to be friends with the royal family of Dorne or personal friends with the Magisters of Pentos, it seemed they would not be getting their way.

“And Daenerys Targaryen has yet to RSVP, but if she wants to continue having her goods sold in Lannisport she will. Overall, the guest list is currently amounting to six hundred, but the Sept will only seat five hundred, so I have taken the liberty to have some of your friends bumped from the ceremony to the evening party-”

“What?” Brienne interrupted, “I don't want my friends missing out from the ceremony, I want them to be there with me,”

Tywin's nostrils flared. “I have not had all your friends moved to the evening list. The Starks and Tyrells, naturally, are still invited. Just some of your more.... liberated friends. Those acquaintances that you met in University. For example, that Wildling friend of yours, the one who was jailed for throwing faeces at Roose Bolton,”

“Ygritte? She has to come,” Brienne protested, “That protest was to combat Roose Bolton's trade in the leather of endangered animals,”

“Really, father,” Jaime said, “It's not fair to kick Brienne's friends from the wedding,”  
“And, of course, that bearded red head who insists on eating with his hands,” Tywin added.

“Tormund? Tormund Giantsbane?”

“Exactly, he will not be attending the ceremony either,” Tywin confirmed.

Jaime turned to Brienne. “You know, maybe having two guest lists isn't such a bad idea,”

 


	4. Step 4

_**Step 4** _

_**Avoid any unnecessary drama. Keep things simple, with personal touches to make the day special. Remember more is less!** _

“And here,” Genna announced as she led Brienne and Jaime round the Ballroom of Casterly Rock, “Is where we shall place the ice sculpture of the lion, and we shall place the lioness opposite,”

Brienne sighed. “We're having ice sculptures now?”

“Naturally,” Genna said, “Along with champagne fountains standing at six feet tall, and flower displays of matching height, made up of lilies and red roses,”

“Brienne doesn't like roses,” Jaime put in, only to be cut off abruptly.

“Matching flower displays will be at the centre of each table,” Genna continued blithely, either unaware or simply uninterested in the faces Brienne and Jaime were pulling at each other, “The table settings shall be silver, except for those at the head table. Naturally, they will be gold. After pictures and Hors d'oeuvres, we shall be seated for a seventeen course meal,”

“Will we be serenaded with an orchestra as we eat?” Jaime sneered.

“Don't be ridiculous, a string quartet shall do,”

“Because an orchestra would be overkill,” Brienne muttered.

“Now,” Genna said consulting her clipboard, “The shipment of swans shall be delivered shortly, as will the peacocks. We shall have the swans by the lake and the peacocks in the rose garden, you shall take pictures with both,” she looked up at Brienne and Jaime with a proud smile on her face, “Roslin Tully had doves at her wedding and _'Highborn'_ was all over them. So cliché, and not even in keeping with her red colour theme! I've no doubt that the press will find your peacocks and swans to be far more impressive than Roslin Tully's doves!”

“And Seven forbid that we be upstaged by Roslin Tully's doves,” Jaime said solemnly.

Genna drew to a halt and glared at him. “My dear nephew, something tells me that you are not taking this wedding seriously,”

“Now why would you say that?”

“Well, you seem to find this whole thing to be amusing,”

Jaime widened his eyes innocently. “Beloved Aunt, what is amusing about a wedding where there shall be ice sculptures of lions, silver and gold cutlery, a string quartet, a seventeen course meal, and pictures with swans and peacocks, all of which shall be reported on by every society magazine in from the Seven Kingdoms to Essos? Brienne my love, do you find anything amusing about that?”

It was with a white face and shaking voice that Brienne shook her head. “No Jaime,” Brienne said, “There is nothing amusing about that in the slightest,”

 


	5. Step 5

_**Step 5** _

_**For many Brides, the Wedding Dress is the most important part. So it's important to find something that you feel confident in, as well as your most beautiful.** _

Wedding dresses; whatever their style, whatever their price, ivory or eggshell, satin, silk or lace, A-line, mermaid or ball gown, all screamed the same thing. “I am beautiful!” “I am adored!” “I am beloved!” And so it seemed ludicrous that Brienne, whose face and figure seemed to scream just the opposite, would be buying one. By rights, it should be Margaery or Sansa looking for such a gown. Both pretty, feminine and petite, the two would make perfect brides. No doubt the shop owner and her assistants would much prefer to be dressing one of them.

For all that it might be an honour to be chosen to provide a gown for the Lannister-Tarth wedding, the fact remained that if Brienne were to look a fool on the day of her wedding, the publicity from having one of their dresses appear in every bridal and society magazine would do more harm than good. To dress Sansa Stark or Margaery Tyrell would certainly prove to be a far less thankless task.

Brienne found herself holding back endless apologies for merely intruding upon this sanctuary of beauty and elegance, as her measurements were taken and Margaery, Sansa, Catelyn and Genna happily buzzed round her,champagne glasses in hand.

“A sheath dress, I think,” declared Margaery eyeing Brienne up with an intensity that made her blush.

“Nothing too immodest or informal,” added Genna, “It must be suitable for the Sept,”

“And not too white either,” Sansa chimed in, “Or it will drain you,”

“And nothing too frou frou,” Catelyn said, “Keep it simple and elegant,”

Brienne had to hold back a derisive laugh at that. It would take a miracle for her to look elegant.

And yet, a miracle the shop owner seemed determined to make. Piling dress after dress into Brienne's arms, having her assistants lace and button her up into a variety of gowns that all looked the same after a while. All of them blending into one, silky, rhinestone studded mess. She was paraded about, and critiqued and scrutinized from every inch. He friends holding no punches.

There was no room for mercy.

The constant changes had left Brienne hot and flustered, with a pounding headache that was the equivalent to having her heard cracked open with an ice pick. She ended up seeking solace in her changing room, eyeing up the remaining twelve or so gowns to try on with trepidation.

She rested her head against the pearly white wall and took three deep breaths. As she did, her mobile buzzed with a text from Jaime.

**How's it going? Not too painful I hope.**

Brienne smiled despite herself.

**Could be worse. Of course, it would take a horde of White Walkers to be so, but still it could be worse. Out of curiosity, would you rather have a meringue for a bride, or a marshmallow?**

**Neither. I want you. Xxx**

It was the sweet, slightly syrupy type statement that Jaime could only give and Brienne could only find bearable through text. Jaime, no doubt, would look divine in his tuxedo. And he would be certain to utterly outshine the bride, Brienne could only really hope to look insignificant beside him, as opposed to foolish. Any miniscule hope that she held of actually looking somewhat beautiful on wedding day had rapidly disappeared alongside each dress she tried on.

In the end, a simple sheath dress of cream silk with detailed embroidery was chosen. It had a thankfully modest neckline, although the back was low and draping.

“You look gorgeous,” Catelyn sighed in a slightly stuffed up voice, her arm wrapping round Sansa's shoulders. No doubt she was thinking of the day when the time would come to help her own daughters find a dress.

Brienne felt a pang at the sight. She wondered if the entire experience of dress shopping would have less of an ordeal if she had her mother there. She blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears that she realised sh had been suppressing for a long time. She barely knew her mother, and though she knew her father missed her sorely, he never spoke about her. But if there was ever a time where she would long to have her mother beside her, that would have been then.

Brienne found that she could have bared looking a fool on her wedding day, with crowds sniggering and tittering behind gloved hands, if she had her mother to join her and her father as they walked down the aisle. A bride should have her mother with her.

Then again, a bride shouldn't look like a aurochs in silk and get tongue tied whenever she tried reciting her vows either. She certainly shouldn't be dreading her day as much as a condemned man dreaded a noose. And in a few short weeks, she would be stood before the best and brightest of Westeros and make an utter fool of herself, with her humiliation to be splayed all over the news, to be seen by thousands.

She gripped her phone in her hand, her fist turning red. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to conjure up an image of Jaime and banish the sight of her reflection.

Jaime, she told herself, she was doing this for Jaime.

 


	6. Step 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed!

_**Step 6** _

_**Have fun! It's your wedding day and you're meant to enjoy it. Relax and make the most of a day that is all about you!** _

Brienne had no doubt that she was sweating like a pig. Her hotel room was stuffy, and the walls seemed to be closing in on her. Her muscles were taut and her jaw was clenched as she sat and waited for her father to arrive. Around her, her bridesmaids and Catelyn exchanged furtive looks, whispering to each other.

Brienne jerked as the door knocked, and her father's voice called through.

“Brienne sweetling,” he said, “Jaime is waiting, are you ready?”

Brienne strode towards the door and let him in.

“I'm ready,” she said, “How do I look,”

Selwyn regarded Brienne gravely and nodded.

“Very good,” he said, “You look very inconspicuous in that, no one will suspect a thing,” he turned to face the bridesmaids sternly. “Now,” he said to Margaery and Sansa, “You know what to do?”

Margaery nodded, “Pretend Brienne is with us until the last moment, and then say that we saw her go towards the rose garden,”

Catelyn smiled at Selwyn reassuringly. “I've talked them through the plan several times. We can trust them to cover for use when we go,”

Brienne looked apologetically at Sansa and Margaery, “I'm really sorry that you don't get to come,” she said.

“Don't be!” Sansa near squealed, “You and Jaime eloping, it's so romantic,”

Margaery slid and arm round Sansa's waist. “It really is,” she agreed.

The plan to elope was last minute. Jaime had been willing to go along with his father's debacle of a wedding; having grown up around such events, until he found Brienne sequestered in a bathroom at the their Rehearsal dinner.

After an evening of talking and smiling at people , and being observed like a cow at a livestock show, she found she had to break away. And so, she sought her usual solace in the bathroom stool. After ten minutes of silent panicking on the toilet seat, she had heard Jaime's voice through the door.

“Why is it, whenever we go to a party, we always end up in a toilet?”

that elicited a smile from Brienne for about two seconds, before she broke down into floods of tears. And these were proper tears, making her go all snotty and red faced. This lasted for about five minutes, the wailing into Jaime's arms, before she moved onto the choking phase. Jaime had been horrified to see Brienne, his stoic Brienne, be so distraught.

Through tears and hiccups, he gathered what the problem was. And he knew exactly what had to be done.

And so, he waited outside the servant's entrance of Casterly Rock, eyes shaded and hood up, waiting for his bride. Beside him was a small bag of luggage, their passports, and one-way tickets for a plane to Tarth. Keeping a look-out for any sign of their father's thugs was Tyrion, whilst Bronn waited in the driver's seat, ready to risk them away.

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief on seeing his bride had made it to him safely. He took her hand and bundled her into the car, sliding in beside her. Cat and Selwyn joined them in the back, as Tyrion and Bronn got the car started.

Brienne sat tensed beside Jaime, not even relaxing as the looming figure of Casterly Rock shrank and disappeared. All through customs and boarding she kept twitching, as though waiting for Tywin's agents to come rushing in a haul them back to the Rock. Jaime wrapped an arm round her shoulder.

“There's no need to look so nervous,” he informed her as they embarked onto the boat, earning some odd looks from the security guards and fellow passengers, “We're eloping, not smuggling Sour Leaf and Shade of the Evening,”

Brienne nodded and tried to relax against him as they settled into their seats. “I know,” she sighed, “It's just... I feel bad for your father. “He will have found out by now, he will have to tell all the guests. He will be humiliated and he won't even get to be there. He's put so much effort into making the day special-”

“For him,” Jaime interrupted, “He wanted to make the day special _for him._ We were just props,”

Brienne grimaced ruefully. “I know it would break my father's heart if he didn't get to come to my wedding,”  
“If you wanted to break my father's heart, you would have to find it first,” Jaime said wryly, “Don't worry about father Brienne, he's endured worse scandals. Tyrion and Cersei have seen to that,”

“It does seem rather cowardly though,” Brienne pointed out, “Running away like this,”

“I would hardly call humiliating Tywin Lannister before some of the most respected and powerful people in the land 'cowardly', if we survive it would be a miracle,”

“Scared?”

“Terrified,”

“Don't worry,” Brienne pecked a kiss to Jaime's cheek, “I'll protect you,”

“You better,” Jaime growled, pulling her in for a proper kiss, “After all, I'm doing this for you,”

“And I'm grateful,” Brienne said earnestly, “I truly am,”

“I know you are. And whatever happens I know that it will all be worth it, if you become my wife,”

_**Step 7** _

_**Live Happily Ever After!** _

 

 


End file.
